Tales of Beadle the Bard Volume II
by Rachel Red Ridinghood
Summary: A continuation of a book for a good cause. Please Review!
1. Introduction

Introduction

This is a collection of stories that I wrote that has nothing to do with Harry Potter himself, but has to do with the Wizarding World. _The Tales of Beadle the Bard_ is a book that has a large part in _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. As you may know, that book was very small. This is a collection of stories I came up with that would be in the Tales of Beadle the Bard: Volume II. If you like these stories you'll LOVE the original Tales. You can buy them at your local book store. Also, it's for a good cause. Buying that book also sends money to the Children's High Level Group. I do not have any rights to the Tales, and am telling you about it only because I think it is a good cause. I have written these stories purely for my, and anyone else's, enjoyment.


	2. Two Travelers

Two Travelers

Once there were two travelers seeking out their fortunes. Both were wizards. One was named Desbin, the other Vendlik. Desbin carried with him a pin with his family crest. Vendlik carried a pendant on a golden chain. They met at a crossroad in a dense wood. Because they knew their safety would increase with a companion they decided to travel together. They walked for a time, when they met with an old woman.

She begged of them, "Please. I must have something to sell. My son is sick and I must buy him medicine." Desbin looked at his pin and Vendlik looked at his necklace. Desbin decided that he didn't need his pin any more and ventured to sell it to the woman. She bought it, but it did not help for Desbin had cheated her. Vendlik took pity on the woman and gave her his necklace. She smiled, knowing that the money from it would cure her son. In return she gave him her cloak. He did not ask for it, she gave it freely. When he put it on it warmed his heart and he bade her goodbye.

Farther down the road a tree trunk snapped and the tree began to fall toward the road. Desbin saw this and decided that, since he could, he would keep the tree from blocking the path. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the falling tree. He tried many charms to change its direction, freeze it in place, and destroy it, but it kept falling. Vendlik finally told him, "do not bother. Some things are meant to happen. Do not change things just because you can." They continued their journey.

Further down the path they came to a crossroad. Here they decided to part, and hope fate should bring them back together. Desbin went to the right, Vendlik went to the left. They traveled for a few days, and each met a burdened man. Both men said, "Please. My burden is heavy and I must take it to the mill. I must go home to my family quickly. If there is any way you can help, please do so." Desbin performed a charm to lighten the burden for the man and continued on his way. Vendlik, however, took the man's burden and told him to go to his family. The man went away happy and Vendlik journeyed to the mill. The man with the lightened burden soon gave up with exhaustion and left his burden where he stood and went home defeated and unhappy. After delivering the burden to the mill, Vendlik continued on his way.

The two men met again and continued to seek their fortunes together. Soon they came across a bear. The bear was angry and stood upon its hind legs. Desbin changed into a tiger and presumed to defend himself. But Vendlik changed into a chipmunk and ran away. When he was a considerable distance from the bear he changed back and looked for his companion. Desbin came to him hurt and bleeding. While mending his friend's wounds, Vendlik asked, "Why did you pick a fight that wasn't yours?"

Soon the colors of the leaves changed and there was a chill in the air. The two continued on their journey. One morning they looked into the haze of dawn to se a maiden sitting on the side of the road. She was unhappy and did not see them come to her.

"What is the trouble, miss?" asked Dusbin. The maiden looked up at the two men but did not speak. Disbin searched his pockets and pulled out his money. He held it out to her, to see if money would persuade her to talk. She looked at the money and began to weep. Vendlik took off his cloak and put it on her shoulders. She immediately stopped her crying and looked up at him. She stood and said, "you give me a gift from the heart, I give you mine."

And, together, Vendlik and the maiden traveled through the rest of their lives. Vendlik leaving Desbin, for he had found his fortune.


	3. the Magical Muggles

This story includes an alternate ending, as told by Mr. Lucius Malfoy.

The Magical Muggles

Once in a kingdom on a distant shore there lived a king and queen. The king was wise and the queen fair of face. The land was at peace, so the people considered themselves contented. But, alas, the king and queen were not, for they had no children. One year, finally, the king and queen were blessed with children. Twins. But they were born in a time of trouble in the kingdom. The year before the people became fearful of the wizards and witches among them, and asked the king to be rid of them. The king promised to do so, sending the wizards and witches of the realm into hiding. But even with the hunts life at the castle remained constant. The children were named Bruchin and Amelda. Curious names, but so were they. When they were six months old the nurse ran to the queen claiming that she had witnessed the children levitating their toys. The Muggle queen, of course, thought this absurd and assumed that the nurse had been sleeping. The nurse was dismissed. On the children's first birthday the new nurse denied Amelda a second serving of cake. Later she ran to the queen claiming that the girl had flung her across the room into the wall. The queen thought this madness and assumed the nurse to be drunk. The nurse was dismissed. Finally, on the children's second birthday the queen witnessed her son, Bruchin, in the middle of a tantrum. He seemed to levitate the water pitches and pour it's contents on the nurse. The queen was shocked. Her husband was trying to rid his kingdom of wizards and witches, but his own children were able to perform magic. She did not dare present this to the king, for fear that he would be rid of his own children. Instead, she vowed to hide their powers. She began by dismissing the nurse.

The children grew in stature and in knowledge. They became as wise as their father, yet fair of face as their mother. For years the queen hid her children's powers. Whenever they became angry she sent them to their chambers so that no one would see their magic. Many times they would ask her why they were able to do these things, even though they were not on purpose, and that others could not. She would always smile and say, "Because you are special". Of course, the queen loved her children, but she hated their abilities. In fact, she was afraid of her own children. She dreaded the thought of them discovering their powers and joining the other witches and wizards and fighting their own father. But this plan would not last forever. She knew it, but didn't believe it.

Years went by, and the children became fifteen years of age. One day, in the midst of a storm, an old beggar woman knocked on the castle door. The king was off on a hunt and the queen was resting, so Bruchin and Amelda opened the door for her. She entered and they escorted her to the fire. She thanked them kindly and asked for glass of milk. They said they did not have any, but that they had water. She took the water and reached into her cloak. She pulled out a wand and flicked it over the water. Instantly it turned to milk. The children were amazed. Not that they hadn't seen magic before, but that someone other than themselves could do it. The witch looked into their faces and smiled.

"I see you enjoy magic," she said. The children nodded. "Well, I think I have just the thing for you."

She reached into one of her deep pockets and pulled out two more wands. Bruchin took one eagerly and instantly began flicking and twirling it in every direction. Amelda took the one left over cautiously and did not do anything with it. She looked into the witches eyes and said, "I do not know how to use it."

Once again the witch smiled. "I shall teach you. You, children, are a witch and wizard. Magic is in your blood, though you do not know from whence it came. You shall learn how to use your powers wisely, and hopefully the king will spare us."

All through the night the witch taught them how to use spells and other means of magical usage. But the next day, she had to leave. The children waved goodbye to their new friend and went back to their chambers. The next morning, the children confronted their mother. They asked her if she knew that they were a witch and wizard, if she knew why she hid it from them, and why their father was hunting witches and wizards if his own children were able to use magic. The queen was frightened. She refused to answer any of their questions and sent them to their chambers. This was not punishment for the children, for they presumed to practice their spells. They were imprisoned in their own rooms, with their meals taken to them by servants. But they kept in contact, for Amelda and Bruchin were clever and figured out how to climb the trellis to each other's windows. They continued to practice spells, and were now able to help each other master spells one could do but the other could not. After two years of imprisonment Bruchin had an idea. They would run away. Amelda agreed with this idea. If they were to find fellow wizards and witches they could persuade them to join them in pleading with their father to stop the hunts. Late in the fall, while their father was occupied with a hunt, the children, who were no longer children, enchanted a chair to carry them over the castle walls and safely in the forest. They climbed onto the chair and they flew out of the window.

When they landed in the forest they pulled out their wands. They journeyed to the mountain, where they presumed all the wizards and witches were hiding. They entered the base of the mountain and found a door. It could only be opened by magic, so no Muggles could go in, but Amelda and Bruchin could enter. They went in cautiously, and were met by three hooded figures.

"Who enters our sanctuary?" asked the first.

"We, the son and daughter of the king, enter," replied Bruchin. They were escorted by the hooded figures to a large chamber. There were hundreds of families in the chamber, whom they presumed all able to perform magic. As they passed through the crowd, people ended conversations and stared at Amelda and Bruchin. By the time they made it to the center of the chamber all was silent. They were brought on an elevated rock before the crowd. The first hooded figure spoke.

"These strangers entered our enchanted door, but claimed to be the son and daughter of the king."

A member of the crowd shouted, "the king is not of magical blood. So either these children are liars or spies."

Amelda spoke. "We are who we say we are. We opened the door, so we must be of magical blood. But you are correct; the king is not of magical blood. We came alone, so we must have performed the charm to open the door. So, sir, you are either questioning my truth or my mother's virtues."

The man replied, "I do not question my queen's virtues. We may be persecuted, but she is still my queen. But, tell me, where did you get that wand?"

"Two years ago a witch came by the castle and told us that we were a witch and wizard," said Bruchin. "she also presented us with two wands."

"But what are you doing here, your majesties?" mocked another in the crowd. "Did your mother decide she didn't want children who can perform magic?"

"She imprisoned us in our chambers ever since we found out about being a witch and wizard." said Bruchin. "She had obviously already known. We decided to run away and find refuge here. We fear that our father may kill us as well. We are at the same fate as you, right now. We have no where to go."

Amelda continued, "Think of the many generations of wizards and witches to come. Shall they live in the heart of a mountain, never to be free and dance in the sun? My brother and I have endured imprisonment, but life without the sun would be unbearable. Your children will die. We may be able to help stop the hunts and bring peace back to our land. We need your help."

The people spoke amongst themselves. They could tell that these were the children of their king for they demonstrated the grace of their mother and the legendary wisdom of their father. And their opening the door was proof of their magic, but should they trust them? The first hooded figure took off his hood, revealing himself to be the witch that had come to the prince and princess two years before. The children recognized her at once and told everyone that it was she that had come to the castle.

She nodded her agreement and spoke to the people. "These children are special. Pardon me calling them children, but that is who they were when I first met them, so they shall forever be children to me. I believe that their presence in the royal family shall be of great use to us. Let us make them our leaders and go to the king!" The people cheered and Bruchin spoke, "the king should be back in his home. Let us plead our case."

The people gave up their sanctuary and followed Amelda and Bruchin out of the mountain. They journeyed through the forest to the castle gate and met the gatekeeper. He looked up at the people who suddenly appeared out of the forest and was afraid. He saw them to be witches and wizards by their dress, but did not call the dogs, for he saw them being led by his prince and princess.

The crowd marched into the throne room of the king. He looked up and saw the many witches and wizards whom he had been looking for. He was about to call the guards, but he saw his son and daughter. He spoke, "my son, my daughter. What are you doing with evils such as witches and wizards? Your mother has been worrying over you for three days, now. Go to your mother and I shall deal with the people behind you."

"Father," began Bruchin. "you cannot hurt these people any more."

"I have vowed to be rid of all magical being in the land, my son."

"My father," said Amelda," if you are to be rid of people of magic, be rid of me," and she knelt before him.

"Be rid of my own daughter!" said the king, shocked. "Why I would I do anything to harm members of my own family?"

"Because," said Bruchin, kneeling, "your son and daughter are a witch and wizard." The rest of the people kneeled before the king.

The king was silent. He had made a vow. If he broke the vow he would lose his honor. If he continued on his conquest he would have to kill his son and daughter. He looked around the room at all the people in front if him. They were not armed, had no way to defend them. He saw that they were still loyal to the crown. He remained quiet for a long time. Some of the people in the crown stood up.

"I have made my decision." He said, finally. The remaining people stood. "I cannot break my vow, or else lose my throne. But I cannot kill my own family." The siblings held each others hands, preparing themselves for his verdict. "So I have decided to step down from the throne. That way I keep my dignity, and my children do not die." The crowd cheered. "And in my place, my son and daughter shall rule. Their powers will help them understand all the peoples and govern appropriately."

And, together, Amelda and Bruchin ruled their father's land, finally at peace.

* * *

Alternate Ending

The first hooded figure took off his hood, revealing himself to be the witch that had come to the prince and princess two years before. The children recognized her at once and told everyone that it was she that had come to the castle.

She looked at them and then looked at the crowd.

"Why should I give Muggles our powers? Especially Muggles that are the son and daughter of our king, who is now searching for us and hoping to kill us?" The people considered this.

"They are not one of us!" shouted someone from the back.

"And what proof do you have that we are one of them?" returned Bruchin.

"We have all the evidence we need." Said the witch. "Let us cast them out of our sanctuary in hopes that they may go back to their people. The Muggles."

So, the prince and princes were sent away from the only hope they thought of. They wandered through the forest, hoping not to be found by their father. But why would these foolish Muggles think their father would kill them? What can I say, they were foolish. For many years, brother and sister struggled in the forest to live. The wizards and witches had stripped them of their wands before casting them out, so they could not perform any magic to help themselves. They would hide by day and travel by night, without barely any rest. One fateful day, Amelda fell to the groud from exhaustion. Bruchin knelt by her, begging her to get up. But it was too late. She had passed. So, Bruchin, with a heavy heart, took up his sister and went back to his father. There he buried his sister, and lived with his family, happily without magic.

In this story many things should not have happened. First, the Muggle children should not have obtained power. How they did we do not know. But they had powers, we cannot doubt that. Second, the old witch should not have given the children wands. For without the wands, the children would not have been confined by their mother. But the witch in the story was old and may not have recognized them as the kings own children at the time, and tried to cover it up in her speach to the people. Third, the children should not have thought that their father would kill them. Their foolishness, in this regard, took Amelda's life. In the end, Bruchin found it wise to live without magic. For what Muggles can use magic as a tool? Even ones who have obtained powers? They are Muggles. Nothing more.


	4. Jeurice: the boy who wouldn't obey

Jeurice: the Boy Who Wouldn't Obey

In the woods there once lived a family of magical inheritance. It was composed of a couple and their son Jeurice. It was a cozy home, but Jeurice was to expect a little brother or sister. His father decided to build an addition. But with such a short amount of time, he needed his son's help.

"Jeurice," his father said one day, "I need you to go into the woods to fetch me some long branches. But Jeurice was a foolish boy and refused. For why would a grown man need the help of a child?

"Son. I order you to go into the woods and fetch me some long branches."

But Jeurice still wouldn't budge. So his father pulled out his want and put a spell on him to go into the woods. He assumed that he would do the rest for himself.

So Jeurice was forced to go into the forest for branches. He tried to resist and run back home, but whenever he tried to turn around it was as if there were burning coals under his feet. He continued on in the woods until he came across a pile of sticks and branches. They were of al shapes and sizes, but Jeurice was still determined to defy his father and prove that a child was not fit to do work. So he picked up only the trigs and sticks, leaving the long branches, which his father asked for, alone. Upon returning home, his father looked at the materials, which his son brought him, and became angry.

"Jeurice, I asked you to fetch me long branches. You bring me these in spite of my request?"

"Oh no father!" cried the boy, in false surprise. "I thought you said twigs and sticks, so that is what I fetched."

His father looked at him sternly, but then his face softened. "Very well. I will go out and fetch the long branches myself. Tomorrow you shall do another task. I will give you the directions clearly so you will do it correctly this time. Understand?"

"Yes father."

The next morning, Jeurice was given his next job.

"Son," said his father, "today you shall go into town and buy me some rope. Here is a sickle to pay, and a knut for you for candy."

"Yes father."

Now Jeurice was still on to disobeying his father, so he walked out of the woods, into town, and went to the sweet shop first. He spent the sickle on lollipops, chewing gum, cookies, and pound cake. He ate it all, but was left with a sore stomach. He went to the Iron Monger's for the rope, but found that a knut would not be enough, as he suspected, and returned home grinning through his unhappy stomach. It became so terrible that he was crying by the time he got home. Jeurice's father looked at his son with anger.

"You do not have rope," he stated. "What became of the sickle I gave you?"

"It was not enough," he lied. "So I spent it all on sweets."

His father was beginning to regret sending his son to do all these things. But then he got an idea.

"Son," he began, "I will be giving you a very important task tomorrow, so you must be sure to follow the instructions perfectly."

"Yes father."

"I will go and buy the rope, but you must be ready for tomorrow's task. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes father."

And so Jeurice's father went into town to buy rope, but he only took a sickle.

The next morning Jaurice's father gave him the instructions for the final task.

"Today I plan to build the addition. You will go into the house, and tell your mother to go out and sit on a tree stump. I will be knocking down the northern wall, and I do not want anyone inside if something goes wrong."

"Yes father."

But Jeurice was still bent on disobeying his father, so he did not tell his mother to leave the house. He looked at the large beams and thought to himself, "Why does my father ask my mother to leave? It is a sturdy building and she does not have to go outside for the removal of a wall." He himself went outside and sat on a tree stump. He watched as his father approached the northern wall with his wand, and raised his voice.

"Son! I'm glad that you are a good help today. What if your mother were to be hurt if the building collapsed? Thank you Jeurice!"

And he proceeded to raise his wand and pointed it at the wall. It immediately disappeared, but, to Jeurice's horror, the rest of the building began to collapse. He pulled out his own wand to try and temporarily hold it up, but he was not yet so learned in magic. As the final timber fell, he could not help but to weep. How could he have been so foolish to let his dear mother stay in danger? But there was a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked through his tears to see his father looking at him, kindly.

"Now do you see why I ask you to do things? If your mother had still been in there she would have been crushed."

"But isn't she?" sobbed Jeurice.

But his father pointed across the way at another stump, directly on the other side of the ruins of the house. His mother was sitting there, as safe as could be.

And so Jeurice was greatful that his mother was well, that his father was loving, and that he had finally learned his lesson. Jeurice's mother had a beautiful baby boy, and Jeurice made it his task to be a good example for him, and to always obey.


	5. A Wand's Tale

A Wand's Tale

In a lonely town, deep in a valley, a shop is about to open. In it's dark storage room the items for sale quiver with excitement for a new day. They are of many kinds; unicorn hair, phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, bouncy, firm, flimsy, 10 inch, 13 inch, holly, maple, cherry, and the list goes on and on. But each one is special, for these tools are important and precious to the individual. Even the old magnolia is looking on this day with hope. He has been in this shop for years, and had watched many a wand leave that very shelf. He had begun to get dusty and often feared that he would be thrown out, but the shop owner still kept him in that little wooden box, on that very shelf, year after year.

The bell chimes. A customer! He looked like an ambitious boy, with a gleam in him eye. Perhaps oak with phoenix feather? Nothing. Apple with unicorn hair? Still nothing. But perhaps magnolia with dragon heartstring? The magnolia was placed in the boy's hand. The wand saw into the boy's currents of thought. He saw himself as a great wizard with great power. The magnolia knew that he could not fulfill this dream, so he did not respond. This boy was too full of himself and expected too much from a simple piece of wood. The old magnolia was put back on the shelf, his dragon heart sunken low.

He remembered the day he was made. She string in his wooden body still slick with blood, and a vibrating sensation filling his core. The hands of the craftsman held him delicately, and placed him in the very box he was currently enclosed in. He still vibrated, ever so slightly, because he did not yet have the pulse of a wizard or witch to keep him alive. But it was getting slower and slower. He feared that once it stopped he would be thrown out, for what good is a wand that cannot do his job?

Days passed, weeks passed, years passed, and the false pulse inside the magnolia wand kept on. He passed from hand to hand, but he did not encounter the correct match. Not yet. But he was beginning to become so forlorn that he felt that he could shatter. But one day he was unexpectedly thrust into the hand of a small girl. He looked into the currents of her thoughts. Her wondering mind and interest in magic pleased him. She did not have great expectations for herself, she just wanted to do her best at what was given to her. He felt comforted that a child would have such wisdom and sent out sparks in celebration. But suddenly his slow vibration stopped. What would happen now? He felt the rapid, excited pulse of the girl's hand around him.

Now when choosing a wand, remember that you are not yet a wizard or witch. You are a child with an important tool. For the wand chooses the wizard, and the thoughts of the child are reflected through the choice of the wand.


	6. The Witch's Hearth

The Witch's Hearth

There once was a witch, such as in many of these stories. But she began her life just as any other witch. Her name was Milean. She grew up, went to school, and found true love. She got married to the man of her dreams, and they lived together in a cozy house on the sea. But their happiness was not to last forever. Before the arrival of their first child, her husband was sent out to sea, but was never heard from again. This news weighed heavy on her heart, for how could she raise her child alone and fatherless?

The child was born, and was a happy, healthy boy, with the eyes of his father. She would often rock him to sleep by the hearth, singing her lullaby of love to the child in her arms.

A song I sing  
To calm the cries  
Of the child  
In my arm lies

May the dawn greet you  
Happy and gay  
Let sleep take  
All your sadness away.

Sleep casts a spell  
To drive away fears  
That life brings  
In all the years

So sleep in my love  
While you can  
For tomorrow  
You will be a man.

But soon the light of the hearth went dim due to lack of wood and there was little food. So Milean went in search of a man willing to take care of a woman and child, but there was none. Milean had no choice but to give up her child and begin a new life on her own. So late in the night, while the little boy was asleep, she stole away to an orphanage and left him on the front step.

"At least he will be warm and fed," she thought.

She went in search of love anew, but never found it. Many men claimed to love her, but ended up wounding her heart and body. In many cases she attempted to use love potions, but many times they went wrong and ended up hurting her the worst.

In the dark of winter, on Christmas Eve, Milean returned to her home by the sea, where she and her husband had once lived. But it was bare and cold, with nothing to provide except for a few twigs in the hearth. With what little energy she had left, Milean lit those small twigs, in the thought that she would fall asleep in the warmth and die in her sleep when the flame went out.

The flame burned small, but bright. The glow filling just the corner of the hearth and the chair that she sat in, her frail body casting a shadow on the wall. Just as Milean was beginning to fall asleep, there was a knock at the door. She meant to ignore it, but then it repeated, yet more urgently. She could not stand to leave someone in the cold, so she went to the door. Upon opening it she found a man, chilled to the bone, covered in snow. He begged entrance, so she granted it. He stumbled in and held his hands by the small fire, but one was occupied. Milean offered to hold the parcel she saw in his hand as he warmed up. He eyed her warily, but consented. She took the bundle to find that it was, in fact, a child of about a year old. He was sleeping peacefully. Tears filled her eyes at the sight of him, for how would this man know that she was holding yet another child, by that very same hearth, not a year ago. The child began to cry, so Milean sat in her chair by the hearth and sang to the child the same song she had sung to her own baby.

A song I sing  
To calm the cries  
Of the child  
In my arm lies

May the dawn greet you  
Happy and gay  
Let sleep take  
All your sadness away.

Sleep casts a spell  
To drive away fears  
That life brings  
In all the years

So sleep in my love  
While you can  
For tomorrow  
You will be a man.

As she looked up from the sleeping face of the child, she saw the man looking at her, seeming contented with the song. But his face seemed brighter. It was either from warmth, or more light. The small flame of the twigs had grown and glowed brightly, filling half of the room. But there was no sign of more wood in the fire, and no sign that the man had added more.

"Is this your child?" she asked.

"He is."

"And what of his mother."

"I am alone."

These words seemed harsh. Milean looked upon the sleeping child, wishing that she could do something for this mysterious man and his son. But his story was not over.

"I returned to my home one day and it was empty. I had nothing. That is, nothing but love. I needed to give that love to somebody, but no women wanted to return it. So I decided to give my love to one that needed it."

"The child?"

"I adopted him, and now he is my family."

Milean stared at the fire. "I too had love. But it was stripped away from me. So much that I could not bear to love what I had left. So I left my only family in hopes that someone else would." A tear trickled down her face. If only she hadn't given up her beloved baby.

She looked back at the man, a brightness in his eyes caused by the forming of tears.

"Why, what is the matter?"

The child in Milean's arms opened his eyes. They were identical to those of the man. They were almost familiar.

"Love is never lost, only forgotten." A tear coursed down the man's face. "Do you not recognize love when you see it?"

The fire of the hearth burned in a flame almost as if it would light the room. Milean embraced her husband and kissed her child, knowing that her search was over.

A song I sing  
For you to hear  
To bring hope  
And good cheer

A flame begins  
At love's first spark.  
If all goes well  
It will never be dark.

The hearth is a place  
For flames to grow.  
But you must give  
It the chance to do so.

But, many times,  
Flames die away  
And another anticipated  
On a new day.

For a hearth that is bare  
Bears no flame  
And, without light,  
No love to gain.

Love that is  
Given away  
Often outshines  
The light of day.

Love in the heart  
Is good, it's true,  
But this is the wish  
I hope for you.

That you may find,  
In all your days,  
A way to give love  
In all your ways.

**THE END**


End file.
